Infinity's Prism

by Christopher L. Bennett

  “I’m sorry,” Chakotay said after a moment. “I didn’t realize. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for you.” He clasped Boothby’s shoulder. “But I’m even more impressed with you than I was before. With so much stacked against you, it’s remarkable that you were able to persuade them to consider peace talks at all. That accomplishment proves your strength more than any victory in battle. Surely you’re strong enough to do this one thing too.”

  “You still don’t get it! If I go in there and kowtow before those fossils, if I even pretend to lower myself before weaklings like that…I’d be humiliating myself in a way my people would never forgive. It wouldn’t matter if I saved my universe by doing it; that’s just my job. And there are more copies of me to take over that job, ones who wouldn’t have that taint on them for the rest of their lives.

  “If I do this, Chakotay…I’ll be throwing away my last hope of getting my life back. I’ll be an outcast forever.”

  Chakotay studied him for a time. “I do understand, Boothby. I know how it feels to be an outcast. As an Indian, as a contrary among my own people, as a Maquis rebel, as a refugee in the Delta Quadrant. All my life, I’ve been an outsider one way or another. But that hasn’t made me weak. It’s just meant I’ve had to find my strength within—and find others who could benefit from that strength and give me theirs in return.

  “And I’ve found that here, first on Voyager, then in the Coalition. We’ve taken in countless other exiles, helped them find a new identity, a new sense of purpose. We can do the same for you. Being an outcast doesn’t have to be a permanent condition.”

  “The Voth were exiles once,” Boothby replied. “But they’ve completely forgotten what they once were. Lost touch with their whole history.”

  “Only because they saw being an outsider as a source of shame. I’ve always found it to be a source of strength—a unique perspective that I can offer, a heritage I can take pride in even when I’ve become part of a new community. Yes, a home is a thing worth fighting for, striving for—but you can lose your home without losing who you are.”

  Boothby fell into quiet introspection for a time. “I guess if I don’t do this, I won’t be the only one losing my home. If giving those gnat-eating blobs of fat a cheap thrill at my expense is what it takes to preserve my universe…then at least I’ll still be doing my job as a Groundskeeper.”

  Chakotay smiled. “You’re the finest Groundskeeper I know, Boothby. No matter which Boothby you are.”

  The Groundskeeper sighed. “Well, let’s get back in there so I can humiliate myself. You should’ve brought your holo-imager so you could get pictures.”

  “No! Not when we’re so close!” Kilana cried. Everything had been falling into place. The Voth ship had rendezvoused with her vessel as planned, and the rift into fluidic space had been opened almost effortlessly with their technology. Voyager had arrived and attempted to block their entry into the rift, but it was no more than a token gesture against a Voth battleship. It had wielded every defense the Coalition had devised, barely managing to shake off the Voth’s displacement waves and power dampers, but it was taking a heavy pounding from more conventional weapons and would no doubt be crippled or destroyed before long. It was inconceivable that anything could stop them now.

  “The orders come directly from the Ministry of Elders,” Sanctioner Haluk told her. “We are to stand down until further notice.”

  “But why?”

  Haluk stared as though she were an idiot. “Because the Ministry has ordered it.”

  Kilana stared back, recognizing that this rigid, cold-blooded fool would be immune to any charm and reason she could bring to bear. “First,” she told her lead Jem’Hadar. “Now.”

  It was over quickly. The Voth had formidable technology and inbuilt paralyzing stingers, but they were slow-moving herbivores, no match for any Jem’Hadar they had allowed to get close. On her orders, the Jem’Hadar restrained themselves from killing the Voth, merely incapacitating them. This ship had transwarp drive, but it was designed for swift response against threats or defiance within Voth territory, and thus was capable only of quick jumps over limited distances. Its drive would burn out before she could get a fifth of the way home. Even having taken their ship, she was still dependent on their indulgence if she wished to see the Dominion again. And so it was necessary to leave the Voth crew alive lest she alienate them irreversibly.

  “Thank you,” Kilana told her First once the Voth were all confined. “Now take us into the rift. Go through Voyager if you have to.” She wished it weren’t necessary. If the Voth had sent this ship on her mission in the first place, she would have already completed it. With their typical egocentrism, though, they had insisted that she come to them, considering it demeaning to come out to meet her. Hidebound idiots!

  Yet she was so close to fulfilling the bargain now. Home was just around the corner. All she had to do was this one simple thing, and she would know the will of the Founders again.

  But the Voth have changed their minds. Will they reward me for this now?

  She shook off her doubts. The deal was clear: an escort home in exchange for destroying fluidic space. Whatever their reasons for hesitation, she was sure they would be grateful when she presented them with a fait accompli. And if she didn’t do this, what reason would they have to take her back to the Dominion? Kilana simply did not see anything else she could do at this point. This was her only way home.

  Neelix watched Moskelarnan’s viewscreen in alarm as the Voth battleship muscled Voyager aside and pushed its way through the rift. “What happened? Didn’t they get the recall order?” Chakotay had just contacted them to confirm that the council had sent the message.

  Kes gently touched his arm to calm him. “Kes to Voyager. Are you in need of assistance?”

  “Janeway here. We’re intact enough to follow them in, but we need that counterweapon.”

  Neelix followed Kes’s gaze over to the engineering station, where B’Elanna was carrying on a running dialogue with Harry Kim’s team over on Voyager, instructing them step-by-step on the construction of the device that would generate a counterfield to modify the field collapser’s effects. The ex-engineer looked up and reported, “It’ll take another twenty minutes at least if I have to do it over the comm. But if you beam me over once we’re in range—”

  “We can’t wait that long. I’m taking Voyager into fluidic space. We’ll try to delay them as long as possible. You’ll have to follow us in.”

  “Acknowledged,” Kes said. “We’ll see you soon.”

  “Oh, and B’Elanna—good to hear your voice.”

  Torres blinked. “Thank you, Captain. Same here.”

  Neelix looked at Kes in alarm. “Follow them—into fluidic space? Kes, you can’t! You know what happened to you in the other timeline when you went there!”

  “Neelix, there’s no time.”

  “You’re right, we can’t sit around here arguing. We have to get you to a shuttle or a—an escape pod. You don’t have to go in there. The crew can handle it.”

  “They’re my crew,” she said sharply, chastening Neelix. He reminded himself that she was no fragile child anymore, if she had ever been. But then she softened her tone. “My place is with them. Besides, I may be needed to communicate with the Groundskeepers, tell them what we’re doing.”

  Her bravery filled him equally with admiration and dread. “But…I don’t want to lose you again. I—I’ve already got names picked out for the babies. And—and…”

  She stroked his cheek. “You know what’s at stake, my love. You know I have to do this.”

  Neelix struggled to be brave, as brave as she was. He couldn’t dishonor this selfless, loving act of hers. “You’re right,” he said. “You have to do what you have to do. But I’ll be with you every step of the way. A-as long as I can.”

  “I know you will,” she said, clasping his hand.

  But then she had to focus on the business of generating a new singularity so
they could follow Voyager through. Neelix gave her room to do that, and found himself wandering close to the engineering station.

  “I wanted to thank you,” B’Elanna said, breaking the silence she’d maintained since Voyager had entered the rift, cutting off communication. “For vouching for me with the prison.”

  He cleared his throat. “I didn’t do it for you. A lot of lives are at stake. You can help them. And I’m only here to make sure you get back to prison where you belong once you’re done.”

  “I understand. I just wanted you to know…I appreciate the second chance. And…I’m sorry for what I almost did to you.”

  “There’s no ‘almost’ about it. You killed me. Kes brought me back.” B’Elanna lowered her head in shame, and Neelix couldn’t help softening a bit. “But…Kes has forgiven you, so I should be willing to try to do the same. Just don’t expect us to become friends again any time soon.”

  She gave him an odd look. “Were we ever friends?”

  “I thought so,” he said in surprise, making her abashed again. “At least, I wanted us to be. You never made it easy, though.”

  “No,” she admitted. “I never did.”

  “The Moskelarnan has just entered fluidic space,” Surt reported. Janeway nodded, acknowledging the report, but she had other matters occupying her. “Kilana,” she called over the open comm channel, “please listen to me. You don’t have to use the weapon. We can modify the device to close the border between the universes. It will end the war.”

  The Vorta appeared on the screen. “Why should I listen to your Federation lies?”

  “I’m not speaking for the Federation, Kilana. I’m speaking for the Coalition that you and I are both a part of.”

  “I am a loyal servant of the Dominion! Everything else is just a means toward my return. You promised me the Coalition was researching ways to do that, but you’ve given me nothing! Just empty promises. This will finally give me a way home.”

  A way home. The yearning echoed in Janeway’s mind. But her yearning had been tempered by loss and experience. “What makes you think the Voth will give you anything? They’ve just been using you to serve their ends. And you aren’t even doing that anymore. What can you possibly gain by this?”

  “What do I have to lose? You can’t understand what it’s been like for me. All these years away from my gods, with no place in the cosmos. I have nothing here!”

  “You have the Coalition, Kilana. We can give you a new home.”

  The Vorta shook her head. “You are gracious, Captain. But there is only one home for me. And this is the only path I can see that brings me closer to it. And I cannot let you stand in my way.”

  The screen went dark, and Voyager trembled. “They’re firing, Captain!” Surt reported. “On us and Moskelarnan!”

  “Jenkins, evasive!” The pilot dodged the Voth ship’s weapons as well as she could, but the ship was sluggish in fluidic space, and the fluid transmitted the shock of even near misses. Conversely, the fluid itself attenuated some of the weapons’ force. Ayala used it deftly, firing phasers to heat pockets of the fluid and refract the oncoming beams. “Very good, Lieutenant,” Janeway told him. But she realized it wasn’t enough. Nothing Ayala fired at the Voth ship could penetrate its hide, and there was nothing to stop Kilana from activating the field collapser. “Bridge to Kim. Harry, we need that counterweapon now!”

  “We can’t build it fast enough, Captain. The only way to speed it up is if B’Elanna beams here to do it herself.”

  The ship shuddered again, hard this time, and Jenkins threw her captain a look of apology for letting that one get through. “Not an option, Harry. We need our shields.”

  “Doctor to bridge. I believe I—or rather, we—can help with that.”

  B’Elanna looked uneasily at the device that Moskelarnan’s copy of the Doctor was proposing to attach to her head. “What does this thing do, exactly?”

  “It will allow you tap into the data channels I use to communicate with my other selves. Specifically, my counterpart on Voyager.”

  “And have him relay instructions? Doctor, that’ll slow things down even more!”

  The Doctor sighed. This incarnation of him looked like a Vostigye but still acted like the Doctor she remembered. “Since time is of the essence, let me just show you.” Still wary, she nodded and let him proceed. What have I got to lose? she thought as the vessel shook under a weapon impact.

  After a moment of disorientation, she opened her eyes to find herself in a place she’d never expected to set foot in again: Voyager’s engine room. It had been heavily rebuilt with Vostigye and other technology, and the warp core was a different design. But its basic structure was instantly familiar, as was the sight of Harry Kim standing next to her, steadying her with a hand on her arm. Most of the other people here were unfamiliar, though.

  And so was she, for that matter. She felt very strange. She looked down at herself, seeing her own hands and body—but in a Starfleet uniform. “How did I get here?”

  “You didn’t,” Harry said. “Look on your sleeve.” She looked down to see the Doctor’s mobile emitter there.

  “I’m a hologram?” she asked, realizing that Harry hadn’t been steadying her, but holding the emitter in place as she—or this holographic body—materialized. That explained the uniform—the hologram must be based on old image files in Voyager’s computer.

  But then an explosion rocked the ship, and B’Elanna shook off her disorientation. “Okay, I’m a hologram. Let’s get to work.”

  The interface was remarkable. She knew she was really back on Moskelarnan, and was even aware of her body there when she concentrated on it. But at the same time, she had a second body that she occupied as fully as the first, and she could localize her consciousness in either one. Is this what it’s like for the Doctor? she wondered.

  Minus several thousand, yes, said his voice in her head, startling her. Don’t be so surprised, Ms. Torres. This is my neural network you’re piggybacking on, after all. I always wanted to give you a piece of my mind.

  So how do I shut you up? she fired back. I’ve got work to do.

  The Doctor left her to it, and she and Harry got to work along with the rest of the team. All the frustration she’d felt trying to give instructions over the comm fell away when she was able to do the work with her own hands, or a reasonable facsimile thereof. Now the work went swiftly and smoothly, the pieces falling naturally into the places where they belonged. But she soon realized there was more to it than that. It felt right to be back here, in the engine room, solving a problem alongside Harry Kim and a crack team of engineers. This was the place where she belonged.

  But this is the last time I’ll ever be here. And I’m not even really here.

  She shook it off. She’d made her bed. And she had a job to do.

  “Oh, no,” Kes gasped.

  Neelix turned to her. “What’s wrong now?”

  “Kes to Janeway. She’s activating the weapon!” Even as she spoke, she saw Moskelarnan’s sensor officer turning to report, sensed the information in his mind. But she had felt the change in the texture of local spacetime the moment it had begun. She was perceiving things with a clarity she’d never known. She was able to sense every particle that made up the fluid around her, fluid whose psionic energy was pouring into her, supercharging her mind. She could even sense the underlying strings themselves and the harmony they created. She could feel her own strings playing an ever livelier symphony, building up toward a crescendo. She could feel her body straining against the limits of its physical form, starting to let go of a molecular cohesion it no longer felt the need for. But she held herself together, focusing on her responsibilities.

  “It’s too soon,” Janeway said, first in her mind, then over the comm at far slower speed. “The counterweapon isn’t ready.”

  Kes felt Kathryn’s despair, the fear that she would fail in her mission to protect the people of this universe. It was that compassion that had saved Kes so
many times in the past, that had saved the Ocampa people and set Voyager’s crew on the path to where they were today. She would not let it fail this time, not if she could help it.

  And right now, Kes was able to help far more than she ever could before.

  Opening herself, she let the energy of this space fill her. She clasped it to herself, focused it, sent it back to act upon the space that generated it. In that space was a blemish, a growing tumor of negative energy that would engulf this entire universe if allowed to expand. Reaching out, Kes’s mind encompassed that zone of corruption and shored up the surrounding space against it, resisting its expansion. It fought back, not out of conscious will but out of inevitable simplicity; holding back the influx of energy was like holding back an ocean from draining into a sinkhole. She had to spread her consciousness around the entire subspace field and hold back the energy in every direction at once, a whole universe’s worth of energy crushing down on her. The effort drained her, but she opened herself, let more psionic power pour into her. And not merely from the fluid—she sensed the minds of its inhabitants reaching to her as well, sensing her need and her intent and giving her their support.

  Through it all, she heard Neelix calling to her. “Kes…I think it’s starting!” She saw herself through his eyes, starting to shimmer, her body threatening to dissipate like a cloud of smoke. She struggled to hold it together. This brain and body were the focal point for her efforts; if she transformed now, she would lose that focus and this universe would die.

  She reached out and took Neelix’s hand, though she hardly had enough cohesion to hold on to it. I love you, Neelix, she sent to him. You’re my anchor.